Just Dance
by ReluctantSlashFan
Summary: This is what happens when Stiles is bored, friendless, dateless, and alone on a Friday night.


**Hey guys! I'm back with another one-shot. Keep in mind, I've been sick the past few days, and this is what happens when I am unleashed on a keyboard with a head cold.**

**Anyway, this is very loosely based on a YouTube video I saw featuring Dylan O'Brien.**

**So, thanks for reading, I do not own anyone/anything recognizable, and leave a comment if you can.**

**See ya!**

**P.S. I listened to about six or seven dance songs while writing this, so Stiles can be listening to anything really. I don't mind**

* * *

Boredom and Stiles did not go well together. In fact, several bad things had happened because Stiles was bored. The garage fire of 2003 was because Stiles was bored. The great mud war of 2008 was because Stiles was bored. He had to constantly be moving, constantly be doing something, otherwise bad things happened.

So, when he found himself friendless, dateless, and utterly bored that Friday night, he decided he'd surf the web for a while. That had to be better than what he _wanted_ to do; he doubted Derek would appreciate the fifty or so text messages he wanted to send.

He started out screwing around on Facebook, checking his wall, adding a few comments, chatting with his cousin Erwin (whom he really despised and hadn't really wanted to talk to anyway, but Erwin had been online and had caught Stiles before he could sign out), and otherwise bullshitting until he grew bored of that.

He then played a few rounds of HappyWheels, but ended up rage quitting when his character kept losing his fricking head. He then moved onto a few games on another website, but he soon grew bored of that also.

With a frustrated sigh, he ended up Googling a bunch of werewolf lore, just some little things he didn't _need_ to know, but had wanted to know. Once he exhausted the few questions he had been too embarrassed to ask Derek, he ended up on YouTube.

At first, he was merely looking up stupid videos, but nothing about cats. He had never been a cat person. He much preferred dogs, though ever since all the werewolf stuff he was starting to rethink being a dog person.

He wasn't sure exactly how he got from stupid videos to music videos, but one moment he's watching jackasses take nut shots and the next he's listening to songs he hadn't heard in years. At first, he sort of bobbed his head to the songs, maybe threw in a couple shoulder movements, even lip-synced a few words; nothing too embarrassing.

It wasn't until he clicked on one particular song that things seemed to change. It started out innocent enough with his head bobbing, lip-syncing, and shoulder movements, but he was soon moving his arms and his torso, even verbally singing the lyrics. He didn't even know he _knew_ the lyrics to this song. That was just sad.

He turned the song up, his speakers at their limit, and stood up. Okay, so maybe that hadn't been such a good idea, but he was alone and who the hell cared what he did when he was alone? Yes, the hip thrusts weren't necessary, but again he was alone. He could do whatever the hell he pleased. It wasn't anyone's prerogative but his own what he did…

He made a 180 turn, freezing when his eyes settled on a familiar, dark haired werewolf; a familiar werewolf that was trying very hard not to laugh.

"Oh my God," Stiles shouted, whirling around to exit out of YouTube. Keeping his back to Derek, his face burning red, he stammered, "W-what are you doing here?"

"Apparently missing one hell of a party," Derek retorted sarcastically, chuckling slightly. "Why wasn't I invited?"

"Get out," Stiles snapped vaguely gesturing to the window.

"Okay." Stiles listened as Derek crossed the room, clambering out of the window. It was quiet for a moment, but he then heard Derek say, "Is there a class where I can learn those moves or..."

With a snarl, Stiles crossed the room and slammed the window shut. The last thing he saw was Derek's laughing face before he yanked his curtains closed. Mortified, throwing a dirty look at his computer, he made a mental note to start locking his window.


End file.
